


Not technically cheating.

by Sunflowers_And_Roses



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: All the soulmate AU's, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, But it's only fluff-if that, Fluff, Like he's in school, M/M, Soul Bond, Tests, Younger Eggsy, maths - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunflowers_And_Roses/pseuds/Sunflowers_And_Roses
Summary: AU where all the soulmate prompts are real Eggsy and Harry find each other in an unconventional way.OrEggsy is bad at maths and it doesn't technically count as cheating, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will most likely stay a one shot, it might be added to but don't get your hopes up.

He wasn’t quite sure just why he did it - the chances of it working where low, and the possibility of a reply even lower. But Eggsy was bad at maths and desperate, so he took a chance, besides, it's not like it was cheating or anything - even if it did work, some people probably already asked their soulmates via telepathic link the answers to all of the questions. So at least he was only asking for one, that had to count for something if he was caught, right?

He glanced around the classroom. The teacher was sitting at her table reading, and everyone was too involved in their own work to bother with him. He took a deep breath and turned his pen away from his test and to the inside of his arm.

12b+4b(b-3)=60  
b=?

A breath he didn’t realise he was holding escaped as he finished, his eyes darting around the room to check if he’d been caught as his pen left his arm and returned to his paper, his heart pounding. He stared at his paper, the final question taunting him-he could swear they’d never been taught this. He peeked at his arm-nothing.

Well, he knew it wasn’t likely, some people have soul marks that their soul mate has the match to, others have a telepathic bond or don’t see in colour until they touch their soul mate or wake up in their soul mates body for a while. The chance that he and his soul mate would have the type of bond where whatever appears on one of their skin appears on the others was unlikely, he certainly hadn’t had anything suddenly appear on him- Eggsys thoughts halted in their tracks.

There was a reply.

12b+4b(b-3)=60  
b=?  
b=3.57(2dp)

Eggsy nearly laughed out loud, he quickly scribbled down the answer, glancing at the reply on the inside of his arm. Eggsy looked around the room, Ms Sharp was engrossed in her book, everyone else was busy finishing the term review test. He smiled at his arm before quickly licking his thumb and rubbing his writing off, Eggsy watched as the answer was slowly scrubbed away by his soul mate.

Thanks

He wrote, hoping they’d reply. He’d never thought that he would find his soulmate so soon, it took some people decades to find theirs - he can’t believe he’d never tried it before! He remembered the lesson they’d had on soul mates, everyone had been so exited. He can remember there was a big fuss about it because someone came in to talk to them, and- 

No problem.

Came the reply, the writing was neat and the e looped onto the m. Eggsy stared at it for a second, tracing his fingers over the black writing, wondering what to say next. Should he introduce himself? He poised his pen over his arm, preparing to write back when new words appeared on his arm.

I’m Harry Hart, what’s your name?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Harts POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so another chapter, this one from Harry's POV. I'm not sure if I'll post any more or not - so don't get your hopes up.  
> Thanks x

He'd waited years. 

Hoping that one day he’d meet a stranger and he’d suddenly realise that they where his soulmate. He used to religiously check his body every morning and night, hoping words or colours would appear, he’d also taken a pen to the back of his hand- but no one had responded. He made a point to shake hands with everyone he met, dreaming that he’d all of a sudden he’d see in colour.

But nothing happened. No stranger lit up his world, no sudden colours burst across his eye sight, no words or marks appeared. But he was still hopeful, hopeful that one day those things would happen. Then he got glasses and he found out he wasn’t colour blind-not even slightly, but he was still hopeful, just another possibility crossed off his list alongside telepathic or mirror bonds. 

The years went by, his friends slowly found their soul mates and he was one of the few left. He rarely checked his body- what’s the point if he’d only be disappointed? He still shook hands though-old habits and all that, but never in the hopes that he’d meet them.

He’d worked hard at school and was recruited by Kingsman when he was in the army - they’d noticed him, his exemplar grades and performance, good family, ecetera. But he knew that he was most likely chosen because he didn’t have a soulmate, maybe they were dead or maybe he was one of the phenomenon- maybe he didn’t have one at all. He knew that not many people who had soul mates would volunteer to go on missions where there was a high chance they’d come back in a casket or someone could target their soulmate for information. 

He didn’t mind too much though, he’d long since accepted he’d be alone, the voice that had whispered in the back of his mind - even when he was so hopeful despite the lack of results, had taken over. He may as well do something useful with his life.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he saw people in the streets matching soul marks on display, or when he spoke to friends who had met their other halves or when he saw another article in the newspaper about soul mates or when he turned on the TV and saw actors portraying soul mates. 

There was however times when he was glad he didn’t have that sort of life, he saw first hand how Lee and his selfless act had destroyed his wife and soulmate. Their son had been to young to understand, he sometimes wondered how they were doing and considered checking up on them- covertly of course, but he never did. He was never too consumed by curiosity he’d violate the-man-who’d-saved-his-life families privacy.

His life had become monotonous, take a jet or taxi to a new place with his cover, complete the mission and come back. Come back to the empty London house that was filled with the memories of his failed distractions from his lack of soul mate. 

The butterflies he’d started to collect when he decided he’d travel the world collecting and studying butterflies – he’d figured he’d have a better chance of meeting his soulmate that way. 

The army pin and beret he had framed when he left. He’d still not quite given up hope by then, hoping that the army would introduce him to new people - one of whom would hopefully be his soulmate.

The news papers commemorating every time he’d completed a particularly vital mission. The missions that he completed with an almost careless attitude, uncaring of his injuries or risk of death - just wanting to feel alive again. Like he used to feel when he was still hopeful, still optimistic, still naïve. 

He’d just come back from another mission, fresh off the jet and out of the taxi. He wanted to sleep but he knew he had to adjust to the time difference sooner rather than later. So he sat in his study, an expensive glass of whiskey in his hand, surrounded by the commemorations of his previous missions. His blazer was hanging off the back of his chair and his sleeves were rolled up, his glasses placed on the desk as he sat in silence, staring off ahead of him.

He savoured the silence - tomorrow Merlin would hound him for mission details. He shook his head slightly and glanced at his glass, about to take another sip when he saw something that made his heart race.

12b+4b(b-3)=60  
b=?

Written on the inside of his arm, he’d never been so happy to see algebra. He gaped at the blue ink that had appeared on his arm and cautiously reached a finger to trace the numbers that were branded on his arm until they left his soul mates. He laughed, gaping at his arm, the room felt warmer, his heart was racing and he was flooded with positive emotions. Happiness, elation, comfort, content - all coursing through him like a potent drug. 

He yanked a note book from a draw and wrote out the equation. His pen practically flying across the paper in his haste to figure out the answer, he simplified it and pulled up a calculator on his phone the answer, 3.57 to two decimal places blinking from the screen. His pen flew to his arm, but he stilled a few millimetres from his skin, what if it wasn’t real? if he’d wrote it and just forgotten? or he was imagining it? 

He took a deep breath and wrote the answer on a new line.

b=3.57(2dp)

Harry waited with bated breath, then the writing started to move, his soul mates lines smudging before disappearing completely, he rubbed his reply off as well, hoping they were making space to reply.

Thanks.

The words appeared in the same blue in, the handwriting un-joined and slightly messy, but Harry loved it already – he wasn’t alone, he had a soulmate! He wrote back.

No problem.

His reply bled slightly, the ink remaining wet for a few seconds. He wondered what to do next. He picked up his pen again.

I’m Harry Hart, what’s your name?

He wrote, he wouldn’t - he couldn’t be left alone for another two decades- especially now he knew he had a soulmate, that he wasn’t so alone.


End file.
